One and Done Sunday #15

This week I came across a post on Not-So-Wicked Step Mom where the author confessed to not knowing of a Narwhal’s authenticity. I’m not talking like, a specific Narwhal, maybe one without proper identification or one that was behaving like a gazelle or otherwise being a poseur. I mean she didn’t know that Narwhals were not imaginary until she walked in on her family watching a documentary about them.

I had to confess that I didn’t know, either. I didn’t know until I read her post.

Is it because I grew up in Indiana, sans Diego and sans Wonder Pets? I definitely never saw one in a zoo. I certainly learned more world geography than Narwhal facts (and that’s saying something).

In fact, the only time I had ever heard of a Narwhal before reading this post was in the Archie McPhee catalogue, purveyors of all things hilarious and ironic. They used to have a Narwhal/Unicorn death battle action figure playset. I believe I drew my own conclusion.

CC says it’s because I’m blond.

I asked #4 and #5 :Narwhal, real or imaginary?

#5: Real.

#4: Real. I know a song about a Narwhal.

Me: Really?

#4: Yeah. Narwhal, narwhal, swimmin’ in the ocean, causin’ a commotion, cause you’re so awesome.

Me: Huh.

Then later this week, we went to the elementary school for parent-teacher conferences. Outside one of the classrooms was a display of kid projects on ocean animals. Guess what was represented? It wasn’t no damn unicorn.

*sigh*.

Here’s your picture. I took it with my phone last night to demonstrate how awesome I am to go with this post. Saturday night on Broadway, waiting near the subway for my husband to finish his show. I’m set up with a seltzer and a stack of critiques for my writing group.

Do I know how to live, or what?

Also, I could use a manicure.

Here are your links.

A really damn good list of dating hints for teenage boys: Given Breath: Pick You Up At Seven.

The pros and cons of dating a yogi (what you should know before you get into it): The View From My Mat

Musings from the mind of a three-year-old: Coffee Powered Mom.

I never watch videos, but I howled at this one. Henri the Existential Housecat. (Julie from Go Guilty Pleasures sent me this link.)

And again, I never watch videos, but this one is so awesome I sat through the whole damn thing and it makes me want to take a trip to LA. It’s worth your time. I’m linking through the blog I found it on, Steadily Skipping Stones: Caine’s Arcade.